After a quick look around the church, I followed a road (more like a dirt path) that went up and then across the face of the steep hill behind the town. It was the first time on the whole trip that I walked on a relatively smooth, soft surface and could look at the view rather than my feet (so I wouldn’t trip on cobbles) or over my shoulder (so I wouldn’t be killed by an Italian driver who was choosing to ignore the “suggestion” of a stop sign or light). The view to the town and lake below and the mountains around was gorgeous.
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